


To Take What Is Mine

by EggParty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggParty/pseuds/EggParty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons are possessive; Predaking is no different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Take What Is Mine

Drift stretched, pacing on his rooftop. The air was cool up there, with a gentle breeze that was blissful on his hot frame. He sat, leaned back and Drift’s hand slid down his stomach to his still-closed panels, hot under his fingertips.

Optics shut, Drift focused only on his building pleasure. It was quiet, and easy to fall prey to his building charge. The sun was setting, the air was cooling, and Drift gasped as his panels pulled away, his spike pressurizing into his hand.

“Mmm…” Drift hummed. “Mmm, yeah.” He moaned softly, under his breath as he stroked himself. When a hard gust of air threw Drift onto his side, hands thrown out to break his fall. Looking up, all he saw was a flash of coppers and blazing oranges, the glint of claws and the expanse of wings before it all swarmed towards him together, rough and dark and grabbing him. In a thrust that dragged Drift into the air, he yelled out, dangling by his legs. He curled up for a better view, and found he had been nabbed off his rooftop by a dragon.

A dragon.

Long neck, sharp eyes and sharper claws, an expanse of wings that made him the size of a mid-class shuttle. The air whipping by, the height, the dragon, it all took his breath away.

 _A dragon_.  
  
As soon as it looked like it was going to land, Drift returned to struggling to break free of his claws. A gentle toss, and Drift rolled across the ground, landing on his side, arms under his chest. A roar tore through him, and Drift kicked away. The mouth of the beast glowed with fire that superheated the air. He shimmered, shiny and gold and massive. Drift stared, optics huge and certain he was going to die. The dragon shut his mouth, staring back, optics big and yellow.

He crept up to Drift, head at Drift’s level. Drift stuttered and held out his palm, his nonverbal ‘no’. He didn’t feel any calmer from the lick the dragon gave his palm. He withdrew his hand, and in a sudden pull and shift, there was no longer a dragon but instead a bot before him, standing tall and broad and proud, looking down, at him before he knelt.

"You’re a bot. Like me.” Drift said.

“There are no bots like me.” The dragon said back. “I am Predaking, and I take what is mine.”

“I’m not anyone’s,” Drift nearly snarled at Predaking’s greed. “you can’t just kidnap others like that.”

Instead of a reply, Predaking leaned in more, sniffing roughly and ignoring the boundaries of personal space. His hands closed around Drift’s shoulders, pulling him against his chest and buried his face in the speedster’s neck. Drift could feel his frame grow warm again, and his spark pulse heavily. “I know what you want.” Predaking said. “I have what you need.”

“You’re not what I want.” Drift said, squirming in his embrace. Predaking leaned back, resting on his heels and rest his arms on his knees. Drift kicked back, but found a rocky wall keep him between maroon thighs. Predaking’s paneling pulled away gracefully, and his heavy spike stood between his legs, biolights down the sides glowing warmly. “I know what you want.” He repeated.

Drift stared, knowing he looked for far longer than acceptable. His heat only got to his head further, his body and mind knowing he was staring at relief. “…Okay.” Drift said, trying to not gasp as he spoke. “Okay.”

Predaking gave the toothiest grin, the look of a king who’d won a battle. He grabbed Drift by the ankles and pulled to put the white and red mech on his back. Then Predaking pushed his legs apart, putting himself between his thighs. Drift’s panels opened, his spike jutting out and resting against his stomach, his valve wet and bare. He let out a surprised gasp; It was Predaking’s hand, not his spike, that touched him. “You are not ready for me.”

“I’m ready.” Drift’s hips bounced once into his touch. “Just do it.”

“No.” Predaking said, ignoring Drift’s further whines and complaints and attempts to coerce the dragon to move faster. He rubbed at Drift’s valve, growing slick under his touches. Once wet enough, Predaking sank two fingers in, listening to Drift moan and growing warm himself from the hot and tight valve. He didn’t try to hide his shuddering breath. Drift’s legs kicked reflexively, twitching while hooked over Predaking’s thighs. “Mmgh,” he groaned, deep and low as he grabbed his spike, fingers tight around his banded girth. “get inside me, now.”

Predaking rubbed his thumb against his node, and then against the underside of Drift’s spike. “You’re ready.” He shifted, talons around Drift’s thighs and maneuvering him. Predaking grabbed his own spike with his sticky hand and poked Drift’s with the pointed head, slicking himself. Drift whined, and Predaking pulled him close, sinking into his valve slowly.  Drift could feel himself split by the spike, thick with ridges that caught on every node as he went deeper and deeper.

“Mmmh, yes…” Drift’s optics shut, his head lolled back and his mouth opened to let loose short soft “Ah! Ahn!”

Claws around his thin waist, Predaking picked up the pace, thrusting away and bouncing Drift on his spike. Metal scraped with every movement against the ground. Predaking went faster, harder, slamming into Drift with everything he had. He grunted and huffed loudly, focused only on rutting into the white mech.

Drift pumped his hand up and down his spike, a thin line of sticky fluid connecting the tip to his stomach plating. He stroked frantically, chasing a charge that Predaking was helping to ramp, rapidly.  
He reached climax, spilling heavily onto his stomach, pink fluids running down seams. His valve clenched, more fluid pooling under him that only made him more slippery for Predaking, who let out a loud noise of appreciation and pride. He reached his overload, going still after seating himself fully inside filling Drift’s valve with thick transfluid. Predaking curled forward, face so close to Drift’s with optics shut, panting hard as he emptied himself into the much smaller mech.

Slowly opening his optics, he found Drift’s face calm, relaxed as if he were asleep. He pawed at his cheek, patting him gently. When Drift didn’t wake, he gently pulled out and laid Drift flat on the ground. Predaking did the only thing that came to mind. He reverted back into his preferred form. He curled up and pulled Drift against him, and licked his face. Drift stirred. Predaking let his wings cover them both, and he continued licking Drift, his face then his sticky stomach.

“Mmgh…” Drift hummed. He grimaced when his face was licked, but he still curled into Predaking’s warm armor. The dragon rest his head, neck and tail wrapped around Drift and content that the autobot was alright, if in need of a good nap.

**Author's Note:**

> HMU @ 0palheart.tumblr.com, i love to talk to people and i'm open to requests!


End file.
